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At lunch yesterday, Mark and I were talking about how she's doing. She seems to be doing alright; on the surface, at least. Mark commented that she hasn't really even begun to grieve. We discussed how odd it is, that when a loved-one dies, you're given maybe two, possibly three days off of work for the funeral. If it's a grandparent, maybe one day. But yet, if you're a new mother or father, you're legally given up to 12 weeks to adjust to the new family. But what about adjusting to a major loss? Why is it that, legally, a company has to allow one's body to heal, but no time is given for your heart or mind? How can corporate America place a time frame on grief? How long does one grieve? A week? Two months? Four years? A lifetime? Maybe two? Why does our society not seem to understand how devastating a loss can be? We always seem to praise somebody for how strong they've been. I can't imagine the loss I'd feel, if a wife of 50 or 60 years, a partner for half a century, is suddenly gone. Why do we praise that strength? I remember when Michael died. I took 2 or 3 days off of work. I couldn't even imagine thinking about work during that time. I remember the weeks and months that followed, how difficult everything was. How at times, during all of the political bullshit, I'd be sitting there thinking about him, about how pointless everything else was. How pointless everybody else's drama was, how all the deadlines in the world didn't matter in the scheme of things. I'd just stare off at my plane gray cube wall, and try to act like I cared, do what was expected. Obviously, we can't take a year off to deal with grief, but surely, there has to be a better way than one day off and then back to work, status quo. The circle of life can be a beautiful thing. But it's also a very wicked thing. For every beautiful autumn afternoon, there's always that sense of the bitter cold that's still to come. Tuesday's playlist: 1. Madonna - The Immaculate Collection 2. Elton John - Goodbye Yellow Brick Road 3. Evanescence - Fallen P.S. The above sketch was drawn exactly 10 years ago today. I remember the day quite well. It was an absolutely gorgeous afternoon. When I'd gotten back to my dorm after class, I found out that one of my friend's dad had passed away. The circle continues. P.P.S. As Vicki always says to me, though, when one door closes, another must open. :)
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Is it ironic that so many people from this area are, in fact, German in their ancestry, but yet, just don't get the "flavored beer thing?" I actually heard a(n ignorant) disc jockey once say "When I drink beer, I don't want flavor, I just want beer." That would explain the Busch Light then, buddy, wouldn't it? Could you imagine going to a restaurant, and asking for a steak with no flavor? People would think you're fuckin' nuts. Sometimes, I really just don't get it. I suppose, Appleton is closer to Miller Park than Germany, though, and people around here are going for quantity, not quality. I guess it's easier to drink pale, thin, horse piss all night than the steak-in-a-glass that I call Guinness! It drives me crazy when I go to a bar, ask if they have any imports, and they say, "Yeah, we have Ice House." This Oktoberfest even had a few polka bands, now that I think about it, but again, the crowd seemed to not understand the significance of them being there. They were more concerned with some cover band's version of "Free Bird." Oh well...
I will write more in my next post about the rest of my weekend, about other good times with friends, and about the race that never was to be. Also, check out my photography page, as I've included updated it with a few more shots. Monday's playlist: 1. The White Stripes - Elephant 2. Sarah McLachlan - Mirrorball 3. Sting - Nothing Like The Sun 4. Dido - No Angel 5. Sinead O'Connor - Universal Mother 6. Pink Floyd - Animals 7. Currently blogging to Alison Kraus - Now That I've Found You P.S. Congratulations to Brian and Renee who had a baby girl last night around 7:30 pm. Aria Norma arrived 3 weeks early, but was still 7 lbs 11oz. Word has it that mommy and baby are doing fine, but daddy is a still tired! They were out with us Saturday night, but I knew it wasn't going to be that far away. Congrats!
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Betty has lived a long and interesting life. You can see it in her weathered face. The age lines were deep, but it's as if each one had a story to tell or a lesson to teach. Her face had a deep sadness to it, one that comes with old age I guess, one that you see in widows or widowers all the time. But it also had sense of wisdom to it, a touch of bitterness, and a wonderful kindness to it. Toward the end of our session with Betty, she shared with us much about her fascinating life. She talked in a matter-of-fact tone, with no boasting or bragging about the things she's done. It was so interesting listening to her share stories of a world much different than the one we know today.
"Every artist
is a cannibal, every poet is a thief I got a real sense, listening to this woman talk, that her husband was the stereotypical artist: way too critical on himself, never really happy with his creations, took himself way too seriously, and was a bit confused about what being successful meant in the world of art. Art is such an internal thing...but yet so many of us judge our success by the response of the outside world. When she talked about that aspect of her husband's art...that aspect of his confusion about his art, I saw a bit of myself in her worlds. Splash asked me to create a painting for him, for his new apartment. I'm excited to do it, but am struggling a bit with the idea of creating a piece that I'm detaching myself from. The very fact that I know he's going to hang the piece up, puts an odd spin on the creation process for me. I start thinking less and less about the means of the creation, and more about the end product. I feel the same way about this website. Knowing that people read my words and look at my drawings makes the creation a little differerent than it once was. When I used to do this, it was for personal reasons only, nobody ever read about my journal, very few people even knew about it. But now, not only do they know about it, but it's wide open for the world to see. Hey everybody, look at me! At times, I find that a certain amount of self-censorship goes on, which would have never happened before. Sometimes I question what I say, how it's going to be interpreted, who will read it, and what people will think. Betty said her husband always said that he didn't care what anybody thought. She said that was a lie. In her opinion, the second that you say you don't care what people think is when you actually do start caring the most. Again, she hit a nerve with me. If I didn't care what people thought, I wouldn't use a spell-check, re-read and edit my own postings for grammar. I do care, very much so. She told an interesting story about how her husband had won a bunch of national awards. You could hear a touch of resentment in her voice, as to how she was treated by the public, by his public at the time. She was always seated in some some odd location, over by the less important people as the rich and noteworthy would sit by her husband. She would watch all the lavish ceremonies, sitting in some dark corner in a borrowed dress, knowing her husband still wasn't happy with his life. She overheard some ladies in the restroom once, whispering, 'Who's was that lady at the end of the table?" in a catty way, wondering why somebody like her would be at such a place. I sometimes wonder, who I'll cast aside, put at the end of the table, while I get wrapped up in my own little world of art? I sense it happening to me now, feeling more and more consumed by the need to created, the need to draw. What am I willing to miss out on in favor of my art? I can tell that I need and crave isolation and introspection these days, which allows me to create. Do I really want to be alone? At what cost must my art come? Betty shared some of her husband's poetry with us, which you could tell she knew by heart. It was heart-warming to see. She was an extraordinary model, with so many great things to share. I felt honored to be around her for the few short hours we had together last night. Friday's playlist: 1. U2 - Greatest Hits 1990-2000 2. Coldplay - Parachutes 3. Ladies And Gentleman The Best of George Michael
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Zoo
TV All of this has made me crabby and unable to focus or deal with things at work. All week, it seems like a freakin' zoo. It's been taking me hours to get to things that should have been done the day before. I've been overly sensitive, and am letting all the little things that are out of my control get to me. I need the weekend to get here a.s.a.p. Yeah...I know, I need some cheese with this wine. After work tonight, I had to run over to Mom and Dad's. They just got cable today, and they needed me to program the TVs (it's funny, I spent just as much time explaining to them that Fox 11 is now channel 12 and NBC 26 is now channel 7). When did I become that guy? How did I become the guy who programs the VCRs, hooks up the stereos, and troubleshoots computer systems? That's one of the many roles I have in my family. That's one I can handle. I went to my art class tonight, feeling beaten down by the world, not having an ounce of enery. But once again, left it feeling great. As usual, it was the cure that I needed. I needed to escape from all of my perceived problems of the week, release myself of myself, and regain some focus and perspective. I ended up with a great sketch (which will be for another post), met some very interesting people, and had another great class. It's what I needed to get through the rest of the week. It's almost what I'm coming to expect from that class. Thursday's playlist (it's been a U2 kind of day....): 1. All That You Can't Leave Behind 2. Live From The Pop Mart 3. The Joshua Tree 4. Greatest Hits 1990-2000 Later.
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As I stood up, I noticed that my left jacket sleeve was shredded and my left arm was bleeding like crazy. I actually had blood trickling down; my left arm was a bloody mess. My first instinct was to panic. My inner voice saw all the blood and went into freak-out mode. But another side of me forced myself to be rational. "Relax, relax, relax...just get yourself home," the voice said. As I rushed home on those poorly lit streets, I kept my arm up, and noticed that it just kept bleeding. A real gusher. The one part of me kept the other part from freaking out, as I was quite close. I just couldn't believe all that blood. At one point, I started focusing on my music. By now, it was "Man In The Mirror." Relax, relax, relax. On this near-panic walk home, I walked past a handful of people. I couldn't help but be disappointed that nobody stopped to see if I needed help. Perhaps the odd, pained way I was walking made people cautious. Was I some drunk? Some crazy man? I guess that's what I would have thought. When I got back to my apartment, I cleaned myself off. Once I got a wet cloth on my wounds and cleaned all the stone and debris off of them, it wasn't nearly as bad as it looked. But they kept bleeding. Of course, I have about 3 small band aids in the house and no first aid supplies. Instinctually, even though I live 1 mile away from a grocery store, I called Mom. When I talked to her, I felt like a wounded little boy with a skinned knee and a boo boo on his elbow. I was still a bit shaken up from all the blood and the fall that I'd taken. I probably sounded weak. Mom had a bunch of old bandages, so I went over there to have her take care of me. When I got there, about 10 minutes later, she had all the bandages sitting out waiting for me. She got a wet rag, and tended to my cuts and scrapes. Any other night, she would have been half-listening to me, trying to watch her newest addiction on Fox, but when her son needed help, Performing As... would have to wait. One of my main beefs with my family has always been that I've felt like because I'm the oldest son, that I'm expected to do things and get little to no credit or thanks. It's my blasted role in the family. When I'm visiting with parent, they continue with their day's work, and my being there is just something that kind of happens in the background. When my sister and her family or my brother Chad stops over, everything seems to stop. It's like they're the special guest stars on some lame sitcom that get an extra special round of applause. But last night, as mom was taking care of me, I felt helpless and accepted her help with open arms. As Mom was cleaning my scrapes, I realized that she too has a certain role in the family that we all take for granted. She will always be my care giver and the woman who gave me life. She will always be the mom. With so many of the relationships in my life, and with much of the love that I've experienced, I've never really understood the idea that love and friendship can be unconditional or black and white. I always tend to find the gray area of things and let that get in my way. Last night, I realized that my mother's love is black and white; there is no gray in between. It's unconditional and it will always be. As all of this was happening last night, and during the moments after when my mind goes off like it usually does, I remembered Cindy, a girl who I work with, whose mother died this past weekend. I'm really not that close to Cindy, and know virtually nothing about her family, but with an almost jarring awareness, I realized how luckily I am that I'm still able to call up my mom when I get in some sort of trouble. I'm sure this comes across as me being a real mama's boy, but I don't think that's the case. I have so many friends who don't have the traditional family that I still have. I know so many people who's parents are divorced, live far away, or are no longer around. Seeing my blood trickle out of me last night, the same blood that runs through my mother's veins, made me thankful for what I have, and sad for those who don't. The above picture is of me only a few days old, with my mom holding me and my grandma Rose next to us. When I think back hard enough, I can think of a bunch of times when Grandma took care of me in the same way. I already see that kind of unconditional love when I see my sister with her kids. Perhaps there's something to be said about a mother's love... So on this Tuesday night, I'm still pretty banged up and sore. My pride took a bit of a crash last night as well. I took the night off from running, but plan on doing that race on Saturday now more than ever. Tuesday's playist: 1. BoDeans - Joe Dirt Car (still in the car) 2. R.E.M. - Automatic For The People 3. U2 - Wide Awake In America 4. U2 - Zooropa
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Friday night started out with a work happy hour. They should call it is what it is: an unhappy hour. Usually the people there aren't concerned with getting happy, they just want to bitch about the latest thing that's pissing them off at work. My friend Splash had a good observation that the only time people are usually truly happy at the happy hours is when they're with their friends who they haven't seen all week, not their co-workers who fuel the fire of bitching, complaining, backstabbing, and gossip. Despite all of that, I still managed to have a good time, a few cocktails, a few laughs, and learn a thing or two about some of the people I normally don't spend much time with. After happy hour (which was actually closer to 3 hours), I met up with my friend Nate, his fiancee Kim, and a few of their friends. It was one of those awesome nights out on "The Ave," where the drinks go down like water, people are constantly buying rounds, and even a shot or two was had. It was one of those nights that ended at about 4:30 a.m., with me sleeping on Nate's floor. I woke up Saturday at about 8:00, trying to piece the night together, and chuckled to myself at some of the goofy shit that happened. As I drove home that morning I realized that I probably still a bit drunk. Saturday was a brilliant fall afternoon. I got a bunch of yard work done, updated this site (which now has its own email address: g-man@g-manink.com), worked on a few other side projects, visited with my parents, and finished my Family Guy Season 3 box set. It was quite a full day. That night I watched The Two Towers again, this time with Splash. I was dog-tired but made it up past 2:00 again. Saturday night was pretty low-key. Sunday afternoon I went to Brian and Renee's co-ed baby shower which was a nice time. It's actually a really good way to get friends together. After the baby shower, I went to my sister's for supper and to play with my nephews. By the time I parked my ass on the couch last night, it felt so good to just relax and veg in front of the tv for awhile; it was also great knowing that I had such a fulfilling weekend with so many good friends and family. After last week spending much time writing and thinking about being single, it was a nice way to end the week, feeling so NOT alone, and realizing there's a huge difference between being single and being alone. It seems to me that the weekends in the fall are always the fullest, perhaps that's why I like this season the best. The weather today, though, was about as gray and gloomy as possible. It was a harsh reminder of the negative aspect of the season, and completely seemed to reflect how I felt on this drab Monday after a weekend full of vibrant yellows and oranges and friends and family. The weather today seemed a bit hung over from a full summer, much like I felt from the full weekend. And next weekend looks likes it's going to be a repeat. "Somebody's got a case of the Mondays." Today's playlist seemed to reflect my mood, as most of what I'm listening to probably does: 1. BoDeans - Joe Dirt Car 2. Two Towers Soundtrack 3. Echoes: The Best Of Pink Floyd
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The class was enjoyable on so many different levels. The first being involved in this fascinating conversation about God, Buddha, karma, reincarnation, judgment day, etc. The second involved the classical music on NPR that we always listen to. The music that night seemed more animated than usual, more cinematic even, and at times, oddly manic. But it seemed to fit so well with the electricity I was feeling in the room. The final thing going on in that room, the main thing, of course, was the actual act of drawing, which almost was happening on auto-pilot for me, somewhere in the background of my mind. That's always how my best art happens, when I get in that zone where the drawing just happens, without much thinking or struggling, where I become an instrument for the energy. What was odd this time around was that this incredible conversation was going on on top of everything else. I'm convinced we were all being channeled that night, in a very strong way. I ended the class with a drawing that I'm quite proud of. I didn't quite capture the model's essence, but there are many things going on in the drawing that I'm extremely pleased with. It was as if on that particular Thursday night, I couldn't be bothered with the struggle of the art itself. I was just content with letting it happened freely, without perfection, but having it happened none-the-less. I was having that connection between the divine, my mind, and my hands. It's an amazing thing when that can happen to a person. I left class that night with my head buzzing like I usually do after every session. Driving home, my mind revisited the topics of our conversations, pondered on my own feelings and beliefs, and felt that great sense of fulfillment one feels after a satisfying meal. My mind was actually in such a haze that I completely missed my exit on the interstate, a route which I've taken home countless times. I got the intellectual stimulation that I'd been craving all week. Art is the old friend that never seems to let me down. |
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The
Single Guy Mark and I have always had this joke relating to Conquest of the Planet of the Apes (my favorite, albeit the darkest, in the series). In the movie, the humans enslave the apes. They all wear red and orange jumpsuits that say "Ape Management" on the chest. Our little joke is that we've all worked for Ape Management at least once in our lives. Apparently, I'm not the only one who feels like I'm Charelton Heston, on this planet of damn, dirty apes. Perhaps there are many stupid people running wild, amongst the more civilized. Did somebody forget to shut the cage? I should clarify a thing about yesterday's post, the one about babies. There are times, many times, that I feel like I did yesterday. It seems at certain "family" events...weddings, birthday parties, baptisms, etc., I feel so awkwardly single, so off-schedule. Sometimes, in these times of family values, it's hard not to feel a bit alienated. I've already not been invited to a "friend's" party because it was for "couples only;" as if my being single was a contagious virus. But there are many other times...many many other times, that I really love my life, love being single. It all depends on my mood and the day. Brandon reminded me that there are times when married people actually envy the single life and the freedom associated with it. I can literally pick up and go away for the weekend, change plans at the drop of the hat, and only have to answer to myself. So tonight, to rub in it the married readers out there and dedicated to the single friends, here are a few reasons (off the top of my head, in no particular order) why it's great to be single:
2. I can (and do so very often) fall asleep on the couch watching DVDs, and stay there all night. I can sleep on my couch just for a change of pace. 3. Procrastination. I have to finish painting my bathroom. It's been that way for 2 months. Nobody cares but me. I can let the dishes pile up, the laundry overflow, and not have to answer to anybody but me. 4. My free time is my own. If I decide to spend the entire day at a friend's house, surf the web, watch DVDs, go the mall, etc., the only person I have to run it past is me. 5. I can watch or listen to what I want when I want. Back when I had Skinemax, this was especially helpful. I can also choose to watch my favorite movie a million times if I choose to and stay in my little movie ruts that I enjoy so much without pissing anybody off. 6. I don't have any commitments to rush home to after work. I can work out, run errands, go to my art class, stop by my parents, or simply just hang out, and not feel obligated to be anywhere except where my whims take me. 7. I can drink out of the milk carton, leave the toilet seat up, walk around in pajamas all day if I want, and eat frosting out of a tub if I so choose. 8. I can chat online or talk on the phone with friends and family, and not feel obligated to hurry up. 9. I can sit up until 4:30 in the morning with my friends, bitching about the RIAA (motherfuckers!!), jamming out with my guitars, while playing video games, eating snacks, and drinking beer, and then keep my dead-ass on the couch the entire next day. When you're single, you are able to get drunk enough to have a hangover and then nurse that hangover. 10. I can shower and go to the bathroom with the door wide open. The cat doesn't seem to mind. ...and so on. Single people: what are some of your favorite things? Married people: what are some of the things that you miss about being single? This list is so utterly selfish, which I guess is the best thing about being single (I was going to say "being alone," but with the friends and family that I have in my life, I rarely feel alone.). Because I'm not part of some couple, I wonder if it's easier being an individual...easier to "think different?" Do couples lose their individuality? Does I, me, mine always have to turn into we, us, ours? Does the individual self get watered down? Tonight's post isn't meant to bash married life, just celebrate singledom. There are many things I hate about being single as well, but not for tonight's post. Unrelated note: We all sing in the car, admit it. What song prompts you to sing at the top of your lungs? Mine is Beautiful Day, by U2. I scream to this song. Wednesday's playlist: 1. Paul McCartney - Give My Regards To Broad Street 2. Paul Oakenfeld - Bunkka 3. Currently blogging to U2's Zoo Radio (internet streaming radio) It's kind of a weird post today...lot of fluttering thoughts, nothing too concrete. It's been that kind of a day. Thanks for the comments; it's good to know that we're all not going through this alone. |
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Tonight I found myself at Toys 'R Us, buying a baby gift for my friends Fischer and Renee. As I was in the baby aisle choosing between the clear or plastic outlet covers, I thought of how different my life could be. Usually, when I'm at that store, I'm buying some type of action figure...but tonight, it just felt more real...like this is what I should be doing at my age. The weird thing about babies is that they are such a good measure of time. They change so incredibly fast...they make you aware of the passage of time. But as I see Zoe walking, watch Derick turn into a little boy, and think of how quickly it will be before Fischer and Brandon experience these same things, I can't help but feel like my life isn't changing at all. It's like I'm stuck in this world of bachelorhood and can't get out of it. The world of my friends and family is spinning wildly out of control at times, and my biggest decision is if I want to work out tonight or go to my drawing class. As I get older, the years seem to go by faster and faster. I feel like so much opportunity is passing me by. I thought only women felt the ticking of the clock. On some days, like today at Toys 'R Us, that ticking gets louder and louder. Tuesday's Playlist 1. U2 - Greatest Hits 1990 to 2000 2. David Bowie - Heathen 3. Fiona Apple - When The Pawn... 4. Sheryl Crow - C'mon C'mon 5. Madonna - American Life And so it goes... |
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The people around me that I can have meaningful conversations with these days seem to be few and far between. Deep conversations are the exception, not the norm. Where does the problem lie? Is it me? Do I have some stick stuck far up my ass? The ol' coal into diamonds scenario? Am I the uptight Niles Crane type of character? Am I being too harsh on myself? Too harsh on those around me? Is a little stimulating conversation too much to ask of those around me? "I'd speak
of artistry, you would roll your eyes skyward. - Alanis Morissette, Unprodigal Daughter I noticed this type of feeling, back when I was in college, when I was really deep into my art, sketching, and journaling. It's as if all of this introspection makes me look...possibly expect...more from those around me, as it does myself. When I get in this artistic mode, I get restless with the people and things around me. It's as if I need more to challenge my brain. I find that the more I write and the draw, the more I see the world around me, for what it is and what it has to offer. The more I concentrate on my art, the less content I get with small talk and ignorance. This morning I overhead a guy by one of printers say "I ain't no tree hugger..." referring to some wasted paper I guess. I thought to myself that he's no scholar either. Hugging a tree? No. But swinging from one? I've said too much. Do these thoughts make me an arrogant prick? Is it wrong to feel like I'm in this world, but not necessarily of it? I'm not saying I'm the smartest guy around either. There's so much I don't know. I'm virtually clueless on geography and horrible with any kind of history. On so many occasions, I consider myself stupid and a fuck up. Am I some type of hypocrite? Didn't Tarzan (before Jane came into the picture), eventually become part of the ape community, but still felt isolated and alone? Is that my fate? It's all so very interesting. On an unrelated note...My sister informed me this weekend that my nephew Derick is beginning to get into the Toy Story VHS that I gave him. Earlier this year, he was still into Blues Clues and Bob The Builder, and didn't really have the attention span for an 88-minute movie. Well, he's fallen in love with Toy Story now, and this is my first real noticeable influence as an uncle. I was swinging him around yesterday, pretending that he could fly. All of a sudden, he said "To infinity, and beyond!!" He said it a bunch of times while we were playing. My sister could never figure out what he was saying until I cracked the code. I'm so proud as an uncle. Now I have to work on Spider-Man next! Shifting gears...A quote relating to Johnny Cash from Bono: "He was more than wise. In a garden full of weeds - the oak tree." Monday's playlist: 1. Johnny Cash - American IV: When The Man Comes Around (Sam Hall is my favorite of the moment) 2. Johnny Cash - American Recordings 3. Various selections from The Essential Johhny Cash 4. White Stripes - Elephant 5. Sixpence None The Richer - Divine Discontent 6. White Stripes - White Blood Cells (We're Gonna Be Friends is my favorite...total Paul McCartney song!) To infinity and beyond.
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Johnny Cash was always in the background when I was growing up, but somewhere in the mid-90's he became very cool again. I remember hearing his cover of Rusty Cage and thinking that he's more than just an old guy who plays country music. I can't say I'm the world's biggest fan, just a casual fan, at most, but I did enjoy his music. His remake of Hurt that's been getting so much attention lately kind of brought him to the foreground of things again, as it seems his name's been brought up much in the past few months. My favorite songs by him are Ring Of Fire, I Walk The Line, Folsom Prison Blues, and A Boy Named Sue. "I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die." He was the original bad-ass. Uber-cool without trying to be. His stripped-down style was classic. I remember one early March a few years ago, driving up north with my uncle Mike. He had purchased one of those gas station type greatest hits tapes that had about 10 songs on it. He hadn't had a chance to listen to it and asked me if I'd mind. We opened up the tape, and just laughed at the rawness of the prison stories and talked about how sparse the music was. Just a guitar, bass, maybe some drums. And of course, those weird little horns on Ring Of Fire. We both agreed that there's just something cool, something timeless about this guy's music and his awesome voice. "Elvis would have been a sissy without Johnny Cash." - U2 A music legend died yesterday, just a few short months after his wife's passing. I wonder if he didn't die from a broken heart? The music world took a huge loss yesterday. It's too bad that it was deemed back page news. The media, of course, has a way of diverting our attention, though, when it wants to. I was amazed...perhaps appalled...by the utter lack of attention that the networks gave this 9/11. What a huge difference just 1 year can make. I understand that we have to go on with our lives, but is it so much to ask that for one night, we pause with all the stupid bullshit? Something seemed a bit off to me that NBC still was running Friends and Will And Grace. I guess Fox was showing Temptation Island. When the tragedy happened, everybody said "let us never forget" but I wonder how many people really meant it? I'm not saying we have to spend the day mourning, but I think a little bit more acknowledgement wouldn't have been such a bad thing. After all, it was because of 9/11 that we started this fuckin' war in Iraq. No, wait, it was to liberate the Iraqis, or was it to find weapons of mass destruction? I don't know, the story keeps changing (but I digress....). I guess my point is, the media crammed 9/11 down our throats when it was time to justify a war, but then on the actual day, we're still showing reruns of Scrubs?? When I turned on CNN when I got home that night, I just wanted to see a little news about the day, see how our country was responding to this anniversary, but instead, I found out that Britney will be nude on the cover of my next Rolling Stone magazine, and she will talk about her new album, her breakup with Justin (gasp!), and THE KISS (double gasp!!). I thought that part of the reason some other countries hate us so much, is because of our shallowness and our out-of-control commercial ways...all the things that Britney Spears seems to represent. I remember watching a show on MTV (of all places) shortly after 9/11 happened, and they showed a poster of Britney that somebody had spray painted the eyes out, put black teeth on, and wrote "You did this to us." Metaphorically, I think I have to agree with that on some levels. But yet, only 2 years later, we're not talking about the tragedy that we will never forget, but instead, we're talking about that fuckin' kiss that happened last month. Please. "I bet there's rich folks eating in a fancy dining car. They're probaly drinking coffee and smoking big cigars." Perhaps I sound angry today. Perhaps it's a little bit of the Johnny Cash in me. There's a classic poster of Johnny Cash giving his old record company the finger...Well, fuck you, Britney and all you stand for. |
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But I just can't do it. I just don't have it in me. The feelings and emotions that I have inside when I think of those towers coming down and the planes being hijacked just seem too personal to share. Too raw to share. It just seems too big and doesn't seem right. I originally wanted to share my experience from that day, how I viewed the world crumbling down around me, how innocence was lost....how things will never be the same. But I just can't find the words or images to capture that type of darkness. My experiences of that day are my own, and I just don't want to revisit them. I just can't. I spent all morning with my thoughts elsewhere. As everybody went on with their day, I tried to find some moments to just ponder everything that had happened and where we have come since. Instead of thinking about 9/11, though, my mind kept drifting to the two little guys you see on the right. The one memory of that day that I will share is that I remember babysitting Derick as my sister rushed out to fill the car with gas. She was only a few months pregnant with Brett at the time. Derick was 1 1/2. We played with his favorite car and watched Teletubbies. That was the only moment of that day that seemed tangible. It's still the only moment that rings true, and doesn't feel played out in some movie. Tonight, after much thought, I decided to post a picture of some of the good that is still left in this world. The love I have for Derick and Brett grounds me, makes sense, gives me hope. It's something I can almost understand. The other thing, the big weight of 9/11, well that's something I still can't understand. It's something far too devastating to think about. It hurts way too bad. So perhaps, it's selfish for me, that in my moments of reflection on this day, that my mind always takes me back to an amazing love that I have, my symbols of hope, and my promises for the future. Just maybe, that selfish love and hope that I still have is what the 3,000 + who died 2 years ago would have wanted us to think about. Thursday's playlist: 1. America: A Tribute To Heroes 2. Bruce Springsteen - The Rising 3. The John Lennon Collection Let us never forget.
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It made me wonder how many other potential rock stars in hiding are out there that we run into every day and just don't realize. I was out with my friend Jason, who is a manager in a very important job position. His name means something within the automotive industry. I'd consider him one of the big-wigs, as I call them. But yet, outside of that element, he's no different than you or I. Nobody knows the difference. A rock star in hiding. Sunday, at the Packer game, I was riding on such a high from the weekend, from all the fun, the accomplishments, the special moments. I felt special, like I wanted to stand out. But yet, nobody around me (other than my party), had any clue, nor would they have cared, that I was the guy who finished his first 6 mile race or had a blast at a wedding or stayed up till 3:00 in the morning talking to the Germans about world politics. I felt like a rock star in hiding. I wonder how many people we bump into in our daily lives, who have something good, something great, perhaps something extraordinary going on in their lives, that they'd love to share, show off, or shout out to the world? I wonder how many people we bump into on a daily basis are people of power or some type of importance? But then again, don't each of us may have something of importance about us that the man on the street will never know? I wonder how many powerful executives, marathon runners, website developers, newly engaged lovers, expecting mothers, recently promoted managers, has-been football players, well-traveled socialites, employees of the month, state gold medal winners, prom queens, and rock stars in hiding are out there?? I wonder how many people look at a stranger and think to themselves, "If you had any idea who I am..." I bet each one of us has a Behind The Music in us. Watching Gappa on the dance floor as I shared a laugh with Jason on Friday night, made me realize that many times, our place and importance in life, is placed on us by the environment around us. I guess then, more commonly, is our perfect anonymity as well. I get the feeling that in life, we've all played to sold-out crowds, had our share of platnimum albums, groupies, bombs, and public relation nightmares. "And then it all fell apart..." No reason for the sun glasses here. Wednesday's playist: 1. U2 - Greatest Hits 1990 to 2000 (still in the car...) 2. Johnny Cash - Unchained 3. Passengers - Original Soundtracks Vol. 1 "Love, we shine like a burning star, we're fallin' from the sky...tonight." Rock on with your bad self. |
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Deep-Fried
Cheese(head) This will be an interesting week, with the anniversary of 9/11 looming on... I still have more I want to write about the Germans and my weekend, but I'm gonna end this short tonight. I have a couple sketches I'd like to work on, a Simpsons Season 3 DVD that I'm finding quite endearing, and I just started reading Gerald's Game by Stephen King; plus I'm fried. Monday's playlist: 1. U2 - Greatest Hits 1990 to 2000 (in the car...The standout track for me is the new mix of Gone. Such a cool song! What a kick-ass band.) 2. Lord Of The Rings: The Two Towers Soundtrack (I love Gollum's Song.) 3. Beatles - A Hard Days Night 4. Seal -Seal (his second self-titled disc) 5. White Stripes - Elephant (currently playing...my standout track of the moment is You've Got Her In Your Pocket...has a Beatles White Album vibe to it.) Later. |
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I had an awesome time at the wedding with Vicki last night. We danced and flirted and drank much champagne. We were a sexy looking couple too, I might add, on and off the dance floor. I don't know where I found the strength or energy to dance the night away, as I was still quite sore from my race, but I somehow did. The crowd at this wedding was a unique group of people. We both felt as if we were in a different world, but not necessarily of it. We made the most of the night and had a fantastic time. I also reconnected with Vick's brother Rick, who I'd been friends with since high school. It was great catching up with him. I only bumped into a small amount of my past (not counting Rick), which wasn't as bad as I thought. That will be for some other, less sunburned post. After the wedding, I met Jason and Jackie, Splash, and Gappa and Akner ("the Germans" as we ended up calling them all weekend) at a neat dark bar called Heroes that had pictures of Spider-Man, Superman, Wonder Woman, etc. on the walls. There was a cool band playing some cool music; I heard a couple great renditions of some Beatles classics (is there any other kind of Beatles song?). Again, I don't know where I found the energy to party like I did, but I couldn't let the Germans down.
We all got up around 8:00 this morning to get ready for the big game day. As I gained consciousness, I wondered what the name or number was of the truck that hit me (It had to be one of the semis that I saw at Schneider National yesterday before my race!). How, I thought, was I going to do this again, the second day in a row?? Somehow, though, I got off of Jason's couch, and started another great day. Jason, Jackie, Splash, Gappa, Akner, and I made our way (walking about 2 miles, I might add) to Lambeau Field to tailgate before the inaugural season opener at the newly renovated stadium. The stadium is quite the place. I don't know where I even got the energy to sit up in the stands. The game was disappointing, but I still had lots of fun with my friends. There were a few middle-aged rednecks (and at a Packers game I use that term loosely) sitting in front of us that made us all feel pretty good about ourselves. After the game, despite Jason's wishes, I decided that it was time to call it a weekend. Between the sun today and the collective minutes of sleep I got this weekend, I needed to recharge. It was time to go home. There were so many incredible moments this weekend, planned and unplanned: the Germans, the 10 K race, the wedding, and wonderful times with my friends, old and new. I'm not sure how I'll muster up the strength to start up another week of work, but if I learned anything from this weekend, I'm sure that I'll somehow find that strength somewhere.
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Last night, my intentions were to stay in. The race was at 8:00 this morning, but they were recommending that we registered at 7:00. I had to drag my butt out of bed somewhere between 5:30 and 6:00. I ended up going out with my friends Jason and Splash, and 2 of their friends that were foreign exchange students from their high school, Akner and Gappa, both from Germany. We had great fun last night; those German guys are a riot (Gappa, or Dave, that's his real name, was actually in a band that won an MTV Europe award a few years ago. I will write more about him in another post.). We ended up going out for steak, having beer, doing shots, etc., and having lots of laughs. By that point of the night, my plan turned into me getting home by 10:00. Well, 10 turned into 11:00, and I had to give some people rides which ended up getting me home sometime near midnight. Since I knew I was driving, I drank a lot of Diet Coke after supper. Between this, and the excitement of the race, I couldn't sleep. I think I saw every hour on the clock last night. When I finally did fall asleep, I started having one of those repetitious dreams. This time it was about missing the race, taking the wrong trail in the race, etc.; it was one of those stupid I'm-missing-the-bus type dreams I used to have when I was a kid. When my alarm went off this morning, I barely had the energy to great it with a grimace. It took me much time to get ready, motivated, and out the door. After a quick stop at McDonalds to get something in my stomach, I was at the race. By the time I got there (with much help from Michael Jackson's Bad CD), I had the energy that I needed to do this. I don't know where it came from, but it was there, in the form of butterflies, adrenaline, and whatever other kind of nervous energy was flowing through my system. I had a great pre-race buzz going on! As I got in place at the start line, I couldn't believe all the people that showed up for this event. It was amazing. A very major deal. They had a little girl sing the National Anthem, and then off we went. The second they said "go!" I hit play on my iPod, and "Gonna Fly Now," the theme from Rocky kicked in. For as cliched as it may sound, it was an incredible moment in time for me. Hearing that song, running amongst that mob of people, and then realizing that, hey, I'm doing this!, was a very empowering thing for me. For a slight moment, I was able to separated myself from my body, and see my small part of this race as a whole. It was a great rush. I ran great and fast the first mile or so. The rest of the race was a challenge at every moment. My inner voice kept saying stop or walk or slow down. It was that blasted inner voice that I had to beat, not the people behind me. Each mile, block, street corner, water station, volunteer, driveway, etc. were all mini-goals that I set for myself. I tried not to think of me running a full 6 miles, I looked at it as me running to my next goal. There were 2 or 3 times, that the nagging pessimist won the battle, and I had to slow down and walk, but the majority of that time, as Forest Gump would say, I kept running. I kept running despite the sweat stinging my eyes. I kept running despite the throbbing in my lower back and the tightening of my legs. I kept running, and at 57:32, runner #716 finished his first race. It was a great accomplishment for me. If I can do this run in under an hour this year, with the limited training that I did this summer, I can only imagine how well I will do next year. With this task behind me now, I realize that I can make change happen in my life, and I can succeed. What a glorious day.
1. Gonna Fly Now -Theme From Rocky 2. Beautiful Day (Quincy & Sonace Remix) - U2 3. Up! - Shania Twain 4. Clocks - Coldplay 5. Seven National Army - The White Stripes 6. Thank U - Alanis Morissette 7. American Life - Madonna 8. Ray Of Light - Madonna 9. Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough - Michael Jackson 10. Reload - Rob Zombie 11. Burly Brawl - Juno Reactor/Don Davis I'm a little sore now, but feel pretty good. Now I have to get motivated for that wedding tonight and the Packer game tomorrow. I need a little time to catch my breath. Make that change.
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Change seems all around me these days. The last few mornings, I've followed a bus on my way to work (because I'm never quite late enough). I've noticed the leaves are all slowly changing, too, and there's that chill in the air. I love sleeping with my windows open during this time of year, as the house tends to get a bit on the cool side during the night. I've slept so great the past couple of nights. Tonight I ran 6 miles again. It's the third or fourth time I've done it. I've been running all summer, but usually only 2 or 3 miles. On Saturday, I'm planning on running a 10k (6 mile) run at Schneider National. My time the last few nights has been 57 minutes, which comes to a 9.5 minute mile. As long as I finish, I'll be really proud of myself. I've been training for this for the past few months. Saturday night, I am planning on being Vicki's guest at her sister's wedding. I'm looking forward to spending time with her again, and hopefully won't bump into too much of my past. I guess the way I look at it, I have to face them eventually. I wish I could just be the type who enjoys snubbing people. Sunday I have tickets to the Packers/Vikings season opener at Lambeau Field. It's the first regular season game in the renovated staduim. It should be great fun. Jason, his wife Jackie, and Splash are going with me. I've been really looking forward to this all summer long. Those guys are always a good time. I just wonder how fucked up we'll all get. :) From the looks of it, I have a pretty full weekend. Work was a nice change of pace today. The first half of the day I spent in a Fundamentals Of Collision Repair class. It's one of the classes we create, but the company requires us to take so many of those classes each year. This afternoon, I was included in a meeting with a pretty big manufacturer. They're looking to possibly have us help create some training for them. This has been happening a lot more lately, and these side contract projects are beginning to play a major role in my job. It's pretty cool. I honestly feel like we're impressing people with these products, much of which I've had a big part in. It's nice to feel proud of what I do. It was quite nice getting away from my computer for a day. Thursday's playlist: 1. Madonna - American Life (for the drive in and home) 2. Marilyn Manson - The Golden Age Of Grotesque (currently listening to this as I'm blogging/making/eating dinner. I ripped this from my friend Joel at work. He said there's a line in the song "[s]AINT" that reminds him of me. It goes "I'm not an artist I'm a fuckin' work of art." That's pretty damn cool!) 3. The White Stripes - White Blood Cells (kick ass!!) Tonight's entry was kind of a potpourri of thoughts and ideas. Nothing too deep, just a lot of odds and ends. More later. Welcome to my new home!
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When I drew this sketch, I didn't realize how close I was to maxing my storage capacity with my RR account. I knew that eventually I would have to buy web space and move the site, but I thought it would be later in the fall. Tonight I'm informed that it may take g-manink.com up to 48 hours to be nested in the web, not the original 4 hours that I thought. Last night I spent some time getting all my files ready for the big move, creating redirect pages that I will probably keep on the old RR servers until I have to get rid of them. If anybody has me linked to their site, this will be a good way to continue with the linking. I'm excited for the move, as it comes with tools that I can see how many hits the site is getting, and where they're coming from. The sketch reminds me of those "We're Moving" post cards you get in the mail. So I guess: I'm moving. Check me out at http://www.g-manink.com later this week! The real reason for this sketch, is about something that I've been noticing a lot of people doing lately and realized that I've been it doing for years as well. Earlier this summer, I was at a Hawaiian party that one of my friends threw. He introduced me to his brother-in-law, who I've heard much about. Within the course of our conversation, he informed me that he didn't have a job and still lived at home. It was as if he was putting all of his baggage out there for me and the rest of the party to see. Why, I thought, did he feel the need to share that information with the party? In thinking about this, I realized that I do much the same. I'm the type to put the baggage out there, the things that I'm uncomfortable with, and try to make a joke out it. I honestly think it started out as a defense mechanism from years of getting pick on in grade and high school. Kind of the idea that it's better to have people laugh with you rather than at you. Almost like, if I make fun of myself first, people won't have to. It seems like a lot of people around me do this too, it's not just me. It's as if it's somewhat fashionable to slightly degrade yourself for an easy laugh, to stand out in the crowd. It seems like these days nobody wants to take a compliment, or be singled out for the positive. I've always heard of the "backhanded compliment," where it starts out as a compliment, but ends up being an insult. I've come to believe that there's such a thing as a the backhanded acceptance of a compliment as well. Try this sometime. Give somebody an honest compliment. If they accept the compliment at all, they'll end it with a "but.." Me: Hey, I like your new haircut. Them: Thanks, but I'm not sure if I like how short it is. It seems like people have to point out their insecurities, and always point out the negative on themselves. Is this a fear of not looking too arrogant? Or is it something else? Is it the second that a somebody gives us some positive feedback, that we feel comfortable sharing what we feel is negative? Why are we afraid to be proud of ourselves or take credit for something good? Why is it, in this corporate world at least, that we're so worried about the "team environment" that we don't single out the people for doing better than others? Why is it so easy to single out and reprimand the bad, but singling somebody out for doing good is done with such caution? Have we become a society, where we like...or need...to feel like the persecuted high school geek? Am I not presenting my emotional baggage in many of these posts, on this website? What about all the whiny little beautiful people on The Real World? If they have a fart come out sideways, they feel the need to share their angst with the world at large. When I was a kid, I never perceived Charlie Brown as the hero. Sure, he was the main character, but I felt sorry for him. Snoopy was where it was at. He got all the bitches (he's a beagle, I can say that). Nowadays, though, Bart Simpson is the underachiever and proud of it. Eric Cartman isn't fat, he's big-boned. Our favorites are no longer the heroes, they're the ones with the most and best emotional luggage. I'm kind of losing my train of though there, but I hope you get my drift. On an entirely different note: Today was one of those days at work, where I was in high production mode. I got a lot done and didn't have a lot of people bother me. I can listen to my iPod all day at work, especially when I'm sitting at my desk all day long. So today, I kept track of all the albums (they're not really CDs anymore...since they're just mp3 files) that I listened to. I think it's always cool finding out what other people are listening to. So here was the playlist for today: 1. The White Stripes - Elephant 2. The White Stripes - White Blood Cells (just discovering this band. LOVE the stripped down, bootleg feel...has a great 60s vibe) 3. George Harrison - Brainwashed (every time I get this out, it gets better) 4. Beyonce - Dangerously In Love (ripped this from a coworker...dangerousdy full of filler) 5. Coldplay - A Rush Of Blood To The Head 6. Madonna - American Life (great for the drive home) That's all for now, Hopefully the next post will be from my new home! Keep in touch!
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Big
Time On a side note: My song of the moment is Seven Nation Army by the White Stripes. I'm listening to their latest album, Elephant, and I think this is hype that you should believe. Later!
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If you any questions, comments, or requests, you can contact me at: |
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Love's Rust
Oktoberfest: Wisconsin
Style
Wisconsin
is known for its beer. So it's fitting that we have a German
style Oktoberfest, right? Not quite. Even though micro-brews
have taken off, and you can get dark beer at just about any bar
these days, at Appleton's Oktoberfest, you had two choices: Miller
or Budweiser. How truly German of us. I found it funny that at
one particular view point I had when looking up, the inflatable
Miller Lite bottle was more prominent than the church. I remember
when I was a kid, many people would go to church on Saturday
nights before they hit the bars. That way they wouldn't have
to get their fat asses out of bed on Sunday morning. Ah, the
simple life.
Appleton's
Oktoberfest has never really been about beer (the German kind,
anyway) or polkas. It's always been about drinking (to get drunk)
and eating. I wonder how many gallons of grease they used for
all of the deep fryers that day? Where else can you get cheese
fries, cheese cake (on a stick), cheese curds (for those of you
who don't know, cheese curds are breaded cheese nuggets, deep
fried), tiger paws, funnel cakes (when I got mine plain,
the woman looked confused. "You don't want any chocolate,
whipped cream, or cherry syrup on that?"), hamburgers,
hot dogs, brats, chili, ice cream, Frito pies (does anybody know
what the fuck a Frito pie is?), kettle corn, candy, cotton candy,
chicken, turkey drumsticks, pizza, corn dogs, gumbo, chowder,
pork, beer-battered this, deep fried that, etc? I ate my share
Saturday afternoon, that's for sure. That's why I was there.
What
I really love about any of these types of local festivals, though,
are all the colorful people, who somehow seem to be able to co-exist
on these crowded streets. We saw a couple punk rockers with sky-high
mohawks getting their picture taken by a drunk white trash guy
in a wife-beater. Classic. Elvis handed out flyers for his costume
shop (why is it, that all Elvis impersonators look the same,
but none of them really look like Elvis??) and insisted on talking
like Elvis as I took his picture with Kim. A barbershop quartet
took requests. The hippies bought fudge from the conservative's
candy stand. Old people danced in the streets. Young people drank.
It's a really surreal atmosphere, when you start to think about
it.
Despite
my sarcasm, I really enjoyed myself at the festival. The weather
was on-and-off all day, but we made the most of it and I had
a great time with my friends. Appleton's Oktoberfest is one of
the many reasons that I love the Fox River Valley and have chosen
to live my life here. I mean, come on, deep fried cheese!
Who Was That Lady At The End Of
The Table?
Her
husband was a poet, who got published early on in his life. He
loved the fame, but was never the same after it. You could sense
how much she missed him, but also how she never quite liked what
the notoriety did to him. It sounds like he died a cold, bitter
man, as he tried chasing the high of his initial success that
he never quite recaptured. No matter what he did, he always would
compare it to his earlier, more famous work. That type of pressure
can put a unique spin on art and the creation process, and create
much frustration.
It's
been a shitty week. I've sick and tired of being sick and tired.
My body is still sore from my fall. Every time I hit my elbow,
it still hurts like hell. The bruise on my arm is getting worse.
It stings when I take a shower. I feel like an old man when I
walk. Because of all of this, I've been sleeping like shit, and
feel run down. My allergies have been acting up too, making my
head feel like it's in the clouds.
Black, White, And Blood Red
Clouds In My Coffee
Channel Surfing
1. I can eat dessert before
supper, without worrying about ruining my supper. Hell, I don't
even have to eat supper.
Baby Got Back
Me Tarzan (With Divine Discontent?)
Men In Black
The Promise Of A New Day
The Fly
Muster
I
stayed up until 3:00 AM talking to Gappa and Akner about world
politics. It was an amazing thing, getting a foreign perspective
on the politics that are going on in the world today. I realize
that my views on current affairs aren't as different from the
rest of the world's. The Germans visit was a great surprise that
added a completely new texture to an already rich weekend. Those
guys are awesome.
Man In The Mirror
Here was my playist that
I ran to this morning:
Ch-ch-ch-changes
All
That You Can't Leave Behind